Broken Promises
by writergal24
Summary: Ginny has stopped playing Quidditch, and George is going to find out why. Takes place in the months after the Battle of Hogwarts. Rated T for MILD language. Oneshot.


**So, I wrote this story months ago, but I just found it again and polished it up so... I hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter... honestly, what I would be doing here? I don't own Harry Potter, I'm not JKR, and I only do this because I love writing.**

Harry was the first one to notice. The whole family would be going off to play Quidditch, and Ginny would decline. Politely, of course, but it started to bug him that she said no every single time.

By August, they were all worried.

They started asking her around the clock, almost as if they were trying to get her to slip up, to finally say yes. But every time, she made an excuse – an unfinished chore, someone who was expecting to spend the day with her, a stomachache. There was always something.

Finally, George couldn't take it anymore. On a day that everyone else was busy, he called her outside and threw a broomstick at her.

Ginny caught it reflexively. Then her face turned red and she dropped it to the ground. "What are you doing?"

"I thought we could go for a ride. Remember how you used to want to fly over by the lake with Charlie and Bill? Well, you're of age now. Mummy can't stop you." George winked at her.

By now Ginny's face was the color of her hair, but George could detect no anger in her eyes. "I don't want to go," she announced calmly.

"Why not? You always used to want to."

Ginny looked away from her brother, out into the distance where some gnomes that Ron had banished that morning were steadily making their way back to the Weasley property. "Well, I don't want to now," she said shortly.

"How about tomorrow?" he suggested.

"I thought you were working tomorrow?"

"Ron and Harry would be glad to go with you. You might even be able to convince Hermione to go."

Ginny started to examine her nails. "Yes, well, I'm very busy. I don't think I want to go."

"Busy," George repeated.

"Uh huh."

"Cut the crap, Gin. Tell me the real reason why you won't fly," George said.

"I… I don't know what you're talking about."

George shrugged. "Alright, then get on the broom."

"I…"

"Do it, Ginny."

Ginny's eyes finally flickered back to her brother and her strong composure instantly collapsed.

Ginny did the thing she'd sworn she'd never do: Cry in front of George.

She was supposed to stay strong for him, for him specifically. Because, yes, she'd lost her brother, but how could that even compare to losing a twin? How could she burden him with knowing that she was in pain, too?

She was going to stay strong.

Stay strong…

But all that was gone. Because there was George. And he was holding a broomstick. And goddamnit, he looked so much like Fred. And she could just picture Fred leading her out of the house on an early summer morning while everyone else was still sleeping and teaching her to fly, even though their mother forbade it.

But Fred wasn't there anymore.

"He taught me to fly," Ginny blubbered as George stared at her, surprised by her sudden emotions. "He taught me to fly! And flying without him… it just wouldn't be right."

George dropped his broom and walked up to his only sister. He wrapped his arms around her and held her against his chest. "You're going to hate me for saying this. I know, because people have been telling me something very similar for the past few months, you included, I believe. But he wouldn't have wanted you to give up flying." She opened her mouth to speak, but he hushed her. "You have real talent, Gin. And you shouldn't waste it."

"He promised me he would come to every match."

"He promised me that when the war was over, we'd open a second shop in Hogsmeade," George said. "He promised me we'd never go a week without talking. He promised me that I'd get the piece of cake with the 'B' on it on our next birthday."

Ginny looked at him in confusion. "Why?"

"B is our favorite letter," George stated matter-of-factly.

She was laughing, she was crying, she was laughing and crying. She wasn't even sure what she was doing anymore.

"He broke a lot of promises when he died," George whispered.

Ginny wiped the tears from under her eyes. "I just wish… I wish I could fly with him one more time."

"You will someday."

Ginny smiled at him, because she was ready to go back to being strong. She was ready to be his rock again. Because George really did need someone to depend on.

He needed someone to keep his promises.

* * *

Two years later, Ginny Weasley played in her first game as Seeker for the Holyhead Harpies.

Fred was watching.

**Let me know what you think! It's not my favorite thing ever, but it made me cry :( Thanks for reading!**

**~writergal24**


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